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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26084731">traditions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/realfakedoors/pseuds/realfakedoors'>realfakedoors</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Steven Universe (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, F/F, F/M, Festivals, Past Pearl/Rose Quartz (Steven Universe), Sad Pearl (Steven Universe), Self-Acceptance, Short &amp; Sweet, Stars, Tanabata, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:28:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,928</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26084731</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/realfakedoors/pseuds/realfakedoors</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Tanabata</i>—a festival of <i>stars.</i><br/>Humans, celebrating the stars? As if humans knew the first thing about the universe beyond their own sun system! It was so absurd as to be laughable, and Pearl decided to partake in the human activities, if only for her to see how wrong they had prescribed meaning to the heavens above.</p><p>--</p><p>At the bequest of Rose, the Crystal Gems attend a Tanabata festival. Pearl doesn't really get human traditions, but maybe she can get behind this one.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pearl/Rose Quartz (Steven Universe), Rose Quartz/Greg Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>traditions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pearl doesn’t really understand human traditions. </p><p>To clarify, she understands the concept of <em>tradition</em> perfectly fine. Just not human ones.</p><p>The kinds of traditions Pearl is accustomed to, the ones observed by Gems, are more similar to the way Pearl has seen humans punch into their time clocks at their workplaces over the past few centuries. When a new planet is colonized, Lapis Lazulis will terraform, Peridots will begin to develop the kindergartens, Bismuths will construct spires, Quartz soldiers will provide escorts, et cetera. There is a role to play and a job to do, and that is the nature of tradition as far as Pearl is concerned.</p><p>Gems don’t celebrate birthdays—what would that even look like? There’s no holiday to commemorate the passage of another year; no grand event to honor even the Diamond Authority.</p><p>Even so, a week ago, when Rose asked if she, Garnet and Amethyst would like to attend a human festival on the other side of the world, Pearl hadn’t hesitated to say yes, <em>of course</em>. If Rose wanted to indulge her curiosity for these facsimiles of culture that propagated itself all over this planet, then Pearl would be by her side no matter how near or far. They’d done ‘Christmas’ a hundred times by now in almost as many different iterations, so what harm could one more human tradition pose?</p><p>Pearl wants to laugh at herself now, because she forgets sometimes that her world is different. Rose’s world, that is. </p><p>Standing amongst warmly lit stalls and chattering voices, Pearl watches as Rose plays human, pulling along her newest plaything—the so-called rockstar with his unruly hair and questionable hygiene. Pearl has been telling herself for months now that this is just a phase, and the voice inside her heart is so scrupulous, she almost believes it. </p><p>As all human traditions are arbitrary and inane, Pearl expects this one to be no different. Rose will enjoy herself, and Pearl will enjoy watching Rose enjoy herself, and that will be enough. But once she was offered a pamphlet from a kindly stall vendor, the pale gem finds herself a little more interested than other traditions she’d encountered in the past.</p><p><em>Tanabata</em>—a festival of <em>stars</em>. </p><p>Humans, celebrating the stars? As if humans knew the first thing about the universe beyond their own sun system! It was so absurd as to be laughable, and Pearl decided to partake in the human activities, if only for her to see how wrong they had prescribed meaning to the heavens above.</p><p>Observing from within glass walls erected by her own indignation, Pearl floats through the aisles, attempting to not be overwhelmed by the intense sensory experience. It is crowded. Small humans run around with masks and food gripped in their tiny hands, silken robes draped over the shoulders while parents in matching clothes dote from a distance. The air is thick with the scent of frying oil and it makes Pearl’s throat burn; Amethyst has probably tried everything the festival has to offer and it’s only been an hour. Shuddering, Pearl tries in vain to turn away as various shapes and objects are dipped into batter to be heartily enjoyed by humans in exchange for money. How do they stand to put their bodies through such abuse?</p><p>Garnet, last Pearl saw her, has taken to sitting at the shrine at the end of the long road, where tall, weeping plants—bamboo, she would guess, based on this region—crowd the grounds of the temple. Small slips of paper are strung up along the towering plants in splashes of whimsical color, fluttering like whispers on the evening breeze, and Garnet had taken to simply placing herself amongst the practice in incomprehensible silence.</p><p>There is something here for all of them, Pearl thinks, and she can’t shake the feeling that there is nothing here for her that isn’t already taken. Soft, large hands, more gentle than all the Earth’s clouds, are intertwined with those of someone else.</p><p>It hurts to look. It hurts to look away. Pearl wants to go home.</p><p>Pearl stays, because that is what Pearls do.</p><p>She knows she can do whatever she wants without being told—this isn’t about orders. This is about what she wants most in this entire universe, beneath every one of those billions of stars that these humans were trying to honor.</p><p>The depth of her transfixation is so deep, Pearl fails to notice when she is finally approached after almost two more hours, a hand resting carefully on her shoulder.</p><p>“Pearl.” Garnet’s voice is neither admonishing nor sympathetic, and Pearl isn’t sure if she’s glad or not. “Come with me.”</p><p>Biting her lower lip, Pearl glances over her shoulder as Rose and her human try to capture tiny fish in a net, cheering when they succeed and chatting with the children nearby.</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“Rose will be fine.”</p><p>Right. Future vision. Pearl forces out her doubts with a sigh and follows without another word.</p><p>Their destination is, unsurprisingly, the shrine at the end of the road; Garnet has spent almost the entire evening here alone.</p><p><em>Well, </em>she thinks, <em>‘alone’ as Garnet can ever be.</em></p><p>Pearl is surprised when she sees Amethyst sitting on a bench, swinging her legs, waiting for them.</p><p>“Since we’re here, I thought we would try this. I’ve been watching how the humans do it, and I think it could be fun.”</p><p>Amethyst leaps up, eyes glittering. “Heck yeah, Garnet! What are we doing?”</p><p>“Don’t eat this,” Garnet warns preemptively, passing Amethyst and Pearl two slips of paper each, keeping two for herself. “The humans write a wish on these for the coming year, and then they hang them to these strings.”</p><p>“Pfft, why would we do that? You can see the future, G. Isn’t <em>wishing</em> for something kind of pointless?”</p><p>With a slight smile, Garnet patted the top of Amethyst’s head. “There’s no such thing as a pointless wish. The future may be predictable, but it’s also full of possibilities. Just try it.”</p><p>Pearl grimaced at the papers in her hands, eyeing a bin full of markers nearby.</p><p>“Why did you get us two?”</p><p>“One wish is for yourself, and one wish is for someone or something else.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Amethyst’s tongue is already poking out in concentration, scrawling down her two wishes on impulse. “I’m going to wish I could have more of those taco snacks, and I wish that—”</p><p>“Amethyst!” Brow creasing, Pearl snaps up a pen of her own and sets out the two slips of paper in neatly parallel lines. “I—I mean, wishes are supposed to be secret, right, Garnet?”</p><p>“Not necessarily. Wishes are whatever you want them to be; that’s why they’re wishes.”</p><p>Pearl tries not to huff at the fusion’s insufferably ambivalent answers—why couldn’t she just side with Pearl for once?—instead staring down at her listless wishlist.</p><p>If she has to wish upon someone else, Pearl already knows what she prayers she’ll request the stars to grant.</p><p>
  <em>I hope for Rose to always be the happiest she can be.</em>
</p><p>Just as her pen meets paper, however, Pearl hears the very same laugh that she’d fallen in love with, ringing out above the tranquil night. Rose. She’s still out in the crowds somewhere, with someone else. Without her.</p><p>And it’s the happiest sound she’s ever heard. The most lovely, sparkling, endearing sound—and Pearl can only listen to its echo, the ghost of affections for a love most gentle.</p><p>She writes her first wish anyway: <em>I hope for Rose to always be happiest she can be.</em></p><p>Part of her wants to add, or maybe write on her second slip: <em>with me.</em></p><p>Another part of her knows that will invalidate the first wish, so Pearl writes nothing, staring at the blank slate of her own unbounded future. Unbounded. What a word, that.</p><p>Tired, Pearl looks up to the stars that are supposedly granting these wishes. Or being wished upon? She doesn’t quite remember, and the pamphlet tucked away in her gem is now too much of a bother to recover. Human science has come far enough for them to realize that many of these stars no longer exist—why bother wishing at all? Why bear your soul to a collapsing coalescence of energy that may have burned out thousands of years ago?</p><p>Distantly, Pearl remembers the faces of times past, of thousands of years ago—of Bismuth, of Crazy Lace, of Biggs—but she can’t wish upon those who are already gone. </p><p>Amethyst and Garnet have now finished their own wishes, hanging them together in the bamboo.</p><p>She’s the only one left without a wish now. Does she feel sorry for herself? No. It’s not like she’s sad. If anything, Pearl is simply troubled. Traditions are a waste, she thinks, watching a single spot of ink steadily saturating her second slip of paper, forming no words. Just a singular black dot on flimsy paper. </p><p>The infuriating longevity of all traditions, no matter how benign the outcome behind their practices—they’re just like her. </p><p>Pearl loves Rose. And what’s more, she <em>knows</em> that Rose—that her Diamond—loves her, but she’ll never escape the reality that she has never been enough. Not on their first day together, and not now. Rose is dazzling and brilliant and worlds revolve around her. Pearl is a star whose light had already burnt out.</p><p>Pearl doesn’t blame Rose for the way she feels. She doesn’t even blame Greg for it, try though she might.</p><p>It just hurts. It hurts, and even though Pearl knew it would hurt, the inevitability of it does nothing to dull the pain. The stars are what she’s here to celebrate, but Pearl feels like there’s mourning in her heart at all of this. </p><p>Humans are foolish, wishing upon stars. They’ve charted these skies when the black abyss beyond is unfathomable, more complex than they could ever conceive; they call these outlines constellations when it’s all just light and dust and dreams. </p><p>There are no maps of change.</p><p>Once, Pearl had wished she could run away with Rose forever, and she thought her wish had come true. At some point, she came out the otherside, and now she doesn’t even know what she should wish for herself.</p><p>Two children brush past her suddenly, knocking about the ends of her kimono. Her hand jolts and the pen ink smears across the page, and she realizes she’s being ridiculous, isn’t she? This is just a silly human tradition, not the stage for her to confront all of… this. Whatever <em>this </em>is. And yet, she can’t leave the paper like this, the paper for herself as a mark of hesitation with a violent disruption. Pearl wants more for herself, ridiculous or not.</p><p>And perhaps it is in that fleeting moment of self-reflection that Pearl realizes it—<em>she wants more for herself</em>. She deserves more for herself, doesn’t she? Even if she doesn’t know what that is or how it will come to pass… Pearl at least realizes that this is what it is to yearn for something on her own behalf.</p><p>And between the dark wound staining her piece of paper, beneath a burnt out starry sky, steeped in traditions that were not her own, Pearl wrote a wish for herself.</p><p>
  <em>I hope that I will learn to yearn for more things someday. </em>
</p><p>It was a start. It was a beginning. And for Pearl, hanging it amongst the scribbles of human words on bamboo branches, it was a vow. </p><p>Perhaps this could become her tradition.</p><p> </p>
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